


The Sound of One Hand Clapping

by linda92595



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 00:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linda92595/pseuds/linda92595
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my version of what happened to John after he made the deal with the YED in IMTOD. It's John get's sent to the Twilight Zone. I was reading another story which gave me the idea, and although this story is nothing at all like that one I did want to mention that reading it sparked my interest in the notion of sending John to another dimension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of One Hand Clapping

The floor was cold and gritty under John's back, and he briefly considered that a hospital really should be cleaner than that. For a few brief seconds John could see the boys’ shocked and pale faces at the doorway then a crushing pain seized his heart in his chest. He tried to cough, tried to draw a breath, tried to say he was sorry, but it was too late. All John could do was watch through a thin gauzy curtain of pain as the doctor and orderlies hefted his rigid body onto the bed and rushed through the process of trying to save him. He was beyond salvation he wanted to say, but that didn't come out either. His vision grayed out and a single sound stabbed into his brain.

 

 

Thrashing John came awake, chest heaving as he drew in a deep breath. Rolling over he glanced around. The room was dark but not unnaturally so. John could see the faint shimmer of moonlight through the pale cotton curtains hanging at the single window in the far wall. The bed was large, mattress firm, but still unfamiliar enough in feel that John knew, from long experience, that it was a hotel bed.

 

He rose, hands shaking, and walked across the room tripping on a duffle bag that blocked the door to the bathroom. Gulping in a deep breath John flicked on the lights and stared at himself in the mirror. He gasped. John was looking at himself, recognized himself but there was something fundamentally different. His hair was still dark brown, with fine threads of gray. He was clean shaven, skin smooth and evenly tanned, but untouched by the elements. It was his face but years younger in appearance.

 

Groaning he ran a glass of water from the tap, wincing at the flat metallic taste, and gulped it down. A sound from outside caught John's attention and he slapped the glass onto the counter where it wobbled and almost fell. He caught it with one hand then stopped again.

 

On his left hand was a wedding band, but not the one he had worn for almost thirty years.

This band was silver, with a single gold thread wrapped around it, and above the band was another ring also silver and gold but bearing three diamonds. John gaped, recognizing it as an engagement ring. Mary's engagement ring had only one stone in the center but this ring was clearly made for a man.

 

A quick glance at his right hand had John dumbfounded. He was wearing not only another ring, this one some intricate sigil with red stones, but a bracelet as well. He had never worn this much jewelry in his life… afterlife? He was distracted from his hands by the door rattling in its frame.

 

Eyes narrowed John cast around the room looking for weapons. There were two duffle bags in the floor one he recognized as belonging to him. The other seemed familiar as if he might have seen it somewhere before, but he couldn't place it. On the far side of the bed, shoved into a corner was a smaller bag filled with herbs, crystals and oils. All the supplies needed for casting spells and incantations. Other than that the floor was bare.

 

Hissing a curse under his breath John darted to the bedside tables pulling the drawers out. He sighed when he found a Glock and a few extra clips inside. Picking up the gun John moved to the door. The rough circle of rock salt crystals on the floor gleamed in the faint thread of light spilling out of the bathroom.  He was careful not to break the line.

 

The door shook again but this time the sound was accompanied by the rattle of a key in the lock. John backed up, holding the gun aloft, and hoping against hope that he would find that yellow-eyed bastard in his sight when the door opened.

 

There was a single figure standing in the door cap pushed back, dirty flannel shirt and ripped t-shirt reeking of decomposing blood. John gagged then frowned. He had never had a sensitive stomach before, not in all the years he had been hunting. But clearly this body, although his, had some quirks to it he hadn't figured on.

 

Bobby took one looked at him and the gun leveled at his chest and broke into a big grin.

Shuffling the cap off his head the older man raised one hand in mock surrender.

 

 "Okay, big bad John don't shoot poor ol’ me."

 

John huffed out a breath and stepped back, letting his arm go slack. Bobby growled at him.

 

"Baby, you ain't supposed to take my word that it's me. What'd we talk about the last time you came on a hunt with me. Don't take any chances."

 

_Baby?_

 

John blinked; clearly he must have misheard the other man. With a grimace he stepped back when the other man leaned in close to him in passing. John skirted Bobby and shut the door bolting it for good measure. Bobby grinned at him again.

 

Shucking his flannel shirt Bobby plopped down in a chair and began stripping off his boots. The smell faded as each piece of clothing fell away. John raised an eyebrow. He and Bobby had never been what anyone would call overly modest, but they hadn't gotten so far as to stripping down in front of each other either. When the other man's boxers hit the floor John flinched.

 

"I'm going to get a quick shower, baby. Why don't you go on back to bed?" Bobby said quietly.

 

There was that 'baby' thing again.

 

John had climbed onto the bed and slid under the covers before he realized two things: one he was wearing silk boxers and a sleeveless undershirt, and two there was only the one bed in the room.

 

He was sitting against the headboard with all the pillows propped beneath his back when the door to the bathroom opened and Bobby walked out, naked as the day he was born. John could feel his jaw unhinge, but he couldn’t summon the motor skills necessary to close it again.

 

But Bobby just trundled up to the bed and slid in beside John as easy as you please and that was it. Whatever the hell was going on here John had had it. He put one hand against Bobby's bare chest and shoved, cringing at the damp moistness of the other man's skin. Bobby frowned and looked down at the large fingers splayed against his paler chest.

 

"Awwww, come on, baby. Don't be like that. I know you're upset, but me and Jim's boys got that son of a bitch that's been killing them kids. We couldn't have done it without you backing us up magic-wise. So don't be mad."

 

Before John could open his mouth the other man had grasped him firmly by the arms and pulled. Bobby's mouth came down over John's and the other man's tongue pressed against the thin, angry line of his lips. John gasped and Bobby took it as an open invitation and dove right in.

 

Clearly things had just taken a turn for the surreal.

 

John shoved and Bobby broke the kiss sliding back a few inches. His face was contrite and John felt a thin glimmer of guilt. Bobby didn't know what was going on, but then John obviously didn't either. Before he could say anything Bobby leaned back, folding both arms across his chest, and that's when John saw it.

 

On the older man's left hand was the glint of silver. John took Bobby's hand holding it out against his own pressing their palms together so he could compare the rings. Bobby's band was thicker, but the same silver wrapped in a thin thread of gold.

 

Holy shit, he and Bobby were married…to each other.

 

Bobby must have taken the gesture as an apology because he twined his fingers through John's and pulled him forward again. Their lips met and Bobby's big right hand came up sliding around the curve of his skull. With a sigh Bobby leaned down pressing his forehead against John's.

 

"Feel like giving me a little lovin', baby?"

 

"What?" John asked freezing in place, "You want sex now?"

 

"Come on, mad or not you know I love you, John. You know that I can't get near you without wanting to get inside that tight ass of yours."

 

Flinching John bolted. Jumping out of the bed and holding up a hand as if to fend off the other man.

 

 "Bobby, just how long have we been married?"

 

"John, are you still mad because I forgot our anniversary?" Bobby asked sitting up. "Cause I am real sorry about that."

 

Rolling his eyes John took a deep breath. Clearly he had had an entirely different picture of Hell. But sex with Bobby Singer probably meant he was in the eighth circle or better.

The problem with that though was that John was alive, very clearly alive. He had a heartbeat, could feel the warmth of Bobby's skin, hear the other man's heartbeat when they were pressed close together. So if he wasn't in Hell proper, where was he?

 

Looking over at the other man John could see the hurt confusion on Bobby's face. This Bobby…wherever he was from… seemed to be deeply in love with his husband? Spouse? John felt his head spin. Stumbling forward he collapsed on the bed beside the other man. Well, it wasn't like John had never had sex with another man, although it had been in Vietnam and more than thirty years ago. Except that wasn't right. Not in this place. Here he was married to another man, Bobby Singer to be exact, possibly had never even been to Vietnam. If that was different how much more of his life had changed?

 

Suddenly Bobby was by John's side rubbing the younger man's shoulders. His eyes were so full of love and concern John felt like a jackass. He let Bobby take him in his arms, and snuggled against the other man's chest. Bobby stroked his back and John lay still letting himself be petted.

 

"If you don't feel up to it tonight, it's okay. I know you've been pulling some long hours getting that location spell set up and cast. I'd be just as happy to just hold you a little while."

 

Sighing John was grateful for the reprieve, but it couldn't go on too long. He knew that this was some cosmic prank at the expense of a one John Eugene Winchester, but just who was calling the shots. Not the yellow-eyed bastard for sure. If he was making all the decisions then John would be slowly roasting over an open fire right about now. So something somewhere had changed the terms of the deal. John felt a surge of panic rising inside him. Would the demon think that John had reneged on the agreement? Were Dean and Sammy still safe and alive?

 

This new body betrayed him and John felt a hitch in his breathing and then the slow stream of tears on his cheek. Grunting he tried to turn away. He had never been prone to open displays of emotion but somehow he just couldn't stop the waterworks once they started. Bobby must have felt the change in John's breathing, caught the stuttering hitch of a sob. With softly murmured words he gentled the other man. John was horrified.

Finally, he shuddered and sat back. Wiping at his nose with the towel the other man fetched out of the bathroom John felt ashamed.

 

 "God, I'm sorry Bobby."

 

"It's okay, baby. You being so sensitive is what makes you open to the flow of power, makes you so good at using magic. You can't fight your genetic make-up. It's why I fell in love with you from the beginning. And for the record we've been married for thirty-four years. I thought I'd better catch you as soon as you got legal before somebody else snapped you up. And our wedding anniversary is April 26th."

 

John frowned; if he and Bobby had been married thirty-four years then they must have married before he even graduated from high school. April 26th was just four days after John' s birthday. Thirty-four years ago on April 22nd John had turned eighteen. In this place he had never been married to Mary, never had his boys. Maybe this was Hell after all.

 

Looking at the other man's earnest blue eyes John felt himself softening a bit. It was clear that this Bobby loved him very much. And somewhere inside this body John felt that he loved the other man in return.

 

"Let's get some sleep. You're all strung out, I know how hard casting a location spell is and how much energy it drains right out of you."

 

John nodded not knowing what else to do. The two men settled back into the bed, Bobby spooned around John's back. John listened to the older man's deep even snoring until he slid into sleep wondering just where he'd be in the morning.

 

_The tunnel was dark and damp, moss clinging to the deteriorating brick walls. John recognized the place; a shape-shifter’s lair. How many years had it been since he was here? The boys had been in high school then, but this place had a different feel to it. Frowning John cocked his head. From far ahead he could just make out the sound of voices carrying on a conversation._

_John set out walking again and he could tell from the strain in his legs that the path had turned upwards. As he rounded the bend John could see the faint glow of blue-white light, and the rough ground beneath his feet smoothed out. The way became easier._

_The tunnel opened into a doorway, a broad stone arch high above his head. He stepped into the light. Across the room John could just make out the faint forms of two beings. One he knew, although he couldn’t see him clearly, was the demon. John felt his blood boil._

_The second figure he didn’t know, though the voice seemed familiar, but it shifted; first sounding male then female, then nothing earthly that John had ever heard. The demon was strident, voice shaking with anger and, for once, when dealing with him, John smiled._

_“You’re changing the rules mid-game…” he snarled._

_The second voice chuckled with amusement, and John felt a sudden sense of peace and warmth flood his body._

_“I don’t play games.”_

_“Oh please, you’re the Grandmaster of all games.”_

_The second voice ceased to sound amused._

_“Be that as it may, I Am what I Am. I never changed the rules, and you knew them from the very beginning. A soul has to be beyond all salvation to belong to you. Even bargained for. If you wanted his you should have crafted a better deal. You made one big mistake, taking his soul in exchange for the life of his son. You could have had the gun, which really doesn’t matter to me. You got greedy. But a soul given in sacrifice for another is my purview.”_

_“He made a deal.”_

_“He played by the rules. Greater love has no man than that he lay down his life for another. That’s my deal, and it supersedes all others. This is my call and I’m making it.”_

_John stepped into the light. He saw a flash of amber as the demon turned towards him, grinning, smile as toxic as John remembered. Stepping back he faded from view until John thought that maybe only his smile would remain, just like that other slick, smiling cat._

_“You caught a break, John-boy. But I’ll still be out there. That world or this one, I’ll be out there waiting.”_

_The feeling of warmth increased, not unpleasantly so, and John felt his muscles lengthening and relaxing, felt the strain and tension leeching out of his body. The figure was deep in the light now, shimmering, shifting at first tall and slim, definitely male, then smaller and more female._

_The voice shifted and changed as well._

_“You gave your life to save your son. To protect the other son. You fought my fight whether or not you wanted to believe it or believe in it. I can’t give you back what you sacrificed for that would shift that life from it predestined path. But I can give you another life. It isn’t what you had; in fact, it is as far from that other life as possible. You alone know anything about the other line of destiny on the fan. You have a second chance John use it well”_

A wide stripe of sunlight was falling across the bed when John awoke with a start. Movement behind him caused John to wince again. He rolled over and studied Bobby’s broad back. The other man was still asleep and John settled back considering the dream…vision… he had just had. As he had done for years John twisted the wedding band on his finger, feeling the cool metal slide across his sweat dampened skin.

 

Glancing down he flinched at the ring, it was well-used, metal a bit thinned around the rim, obviously worn constantly. With a sigh he looked at the other ring, it was gold and he belatedly recognized it as a Solomon’s Key, a devil’s trap, and knew instinctively that he wore it as a guard against possession.  Just as the devil’s trap carved or painted on a surface would keep a demon in, this portable version would keep a demon out.

 

Cautiously, so as to not wake the other man John pushed the blankets down inspecting Bobby’s body for a ring, but he found nothing. Then John noticed that on his right shoulder Bobby had a tattoo, the key. So it was common here. He wondered why he wore a ring and not a tattoo and made a point to remember to investigate that when he had a chance. Lifting his arm John studied his wrist and the bracelet he wore. He remembered that his mother had worn something like it, and other than the size it was remarkably similar. She called hers a tennis bracelet, his was gold and diamond. It looked expensive.

 

Sliding around John pressed his fingers gently against the other man’s shoulder trying to get him to roll over enough that he could see the tattoo. Bobby shifted rolling onto his back with a grin. John felt his stomach clench; it was pretty evident that Bobby was feeling ‘frisky’. There was no mistaking the obvious bulge under the sheet.

 

Licking his lips John sat back. Well, thirty years wasn’t that long a time. He could do this, it wasn’t odd here.  They were married after all. Taking a deep breath John leaned over letting his lips linger on Bobby’s mouth.  The older man let out a laugh, working his fingers into John’s ribs. John shouted falling back, apparently not everything had changed. Blanketed by Bobby’s warm, hard body John felt right for the first time since he had awoke earlier that morning.

 

Afterwards they lay side by side. John sighed, he knew that it should feel wrong, and yet this body knew Bobby’s touch, wanted it. And Bobby knew every soft spot, every place that made John’s body sing with pleasure. Still riding the tide of his orgasm John lay still eyes closed listening as Bobby slid lazily from the bed, and shuffled through his duffle bag for clean clothes.

 

“We’re meeting Jim’s boys for breakfast although truthfully it looks like it’ll be lunch before we pack it up and get out of here. I’ll wake you for a shower when I’m done.”

 

John stood looking at himself in the mirror. Wincing he sighed. The clothes he had found in the duffle bag were his, at least they were his size, but nothing in the world could have made John wear these things in any other dimension.

 

Glancing at the door he wondered idly if he could get Bobby to go out and buy him some jeans and a t-shirt. As it was John was dressed in kaki Dockers and a pink polo shirt, one of the ones with the little alligator on the pocket. And loafers, brown leather loafers. It wasn’t that the clothes weren’t nice. In fact the stuff he was wearing probably cost more than all the clothes he owned, before. Still he shuddered and opened the bathroom door.

 

Bobby smiled at him, and John felt an irrational stab of anger. At least Bobby looked normal in a sort of LL Beane kind of way. Same clothes just better quality. John looked like a Ken doll dressed by a demented six year old. He sighed again casting a longing look at Bobby’s flannel shirt and black t-shirt.  Smiling, Bobby winked at him. John rolled his eyes. Oh great, the old bastard thought John was flirting with him.

 

“Can I wear your flannel shirt?”

 

Bobby blinked.

 

 “It doesn’t go with your clothes. “

 

John was desperate.

 

 “I’m cold.”

 

“I’ll get your sweater out of the truck.”

 

Sweater?

 

Bobby returned holding out something. John cringed; the sweater was pink too, drag-queen Barbie pink. Hissing he pressed his fingers against his temple, it was going to be one of those days.

 

They packed everything up in a sleek blue pick-up that looked brand-new to John. Apparently hunting was a lot more lucrative in this dimension, time-line, wherever the hell he was. Bobby locked the door following John across the parking lot.

 

 

The diner was small, old, and looked like it was populated by mostly elderly people. As a matter of fact until Jim Murphy’s sons, and John could only assume that it was Jim Murphy, showed up he was the youngest person in the place including the waiters. 

Bobby asked for a table for four and motioned John into the booth smiling at the waitress bearing the coffee pot.

 

Gratefully John picked up the mug inhaling the rich aroma of the fresh hot liquid. He took a sip and turned the menu over looking at it although, truthfully, he didn’t even need it. When the older woman appeared again Bobby ordered, not only for himself but for John as well, and he didn’t miss a thing. John was impressed, and a little chagrined. Not even Mary could have done that. He flinched, saddened by the thought. John had had so little time with her. But apparently he and Bobby had had a better marriage; of course, they’d done it for thirty-four years instead of the mere six he'd had with Mary.

 

The door opened again but he was so absorbed in studying the people around him he missed the two younger men approaching the table. When the older of the pair slid into the booth John looked up. His heart lurched. Dean grinned at him across the table. Alive whole, Dean…his son. Then John closed his eyes, not his son.

 

In the pale late-morning sunlight filtering through the window John could see the subtle differences in Dean’s face. Yes, he still looked like his mother, but apparently he also had a bit of his father’s looks as well. John could see Jim’s eyes in the more hazel shade of Dean’s, not the clear green of his and Mary’s.  Sam also sat down offering John a warmer smile and nod.

 

“Good morning, John. Did you sleep well?”

 

He cringed at the sound of his name coming out of Sam’s mouth, but once again not his child. Jim’s son was giving him a curious look, a tiny frown playing on the corners of his expressive mouth. Sam’s gaze flicked to Bobby then back to John. He didn’t miss the slight shrug Bobby shot Sam in return. So his odd behavior was not going unnoticed. John huffed out a breath and looked down at his hands. Maybe they would just pass it off as nerves; apparently he didn’t accompany Bobby and the boys on hunts very often. That left him wondering just what the hell he did do.

 

If he wasn’t a hunter here, in this place, what value did John possess? If he had never been married to Mary, never lost her, then why did he pursue this life? Other than the fact that his husband was a hunter, a good one from the looks of it. Here things had changed radically for John, yet there was a familiarity to this all. The people, the places they hadn’t changed enough to be wrong. And this body he inhabited knew this place, had a feel for it. It was enough to drive him insane.

 

They ate in silence, the boys and Bobby discussing the finer points of tracking werewolves, and didn’t even bother lowering their voices when people passed by. Apparently hunting was a legitimate profession, and the boys and Bobby felt they had nothing to hide. That alone was mind boggling to John.

 

As Sam and Dean talked with Bobby John listened intently, gathering a lot of information about their lives. The older men, Bobby and John, owned a business together although John ran the actual business end of it, while Bobby hunted with the two younger men. He groaned. If their livelihood depended on him sitting on his ass in an office all day, they were doomed.

 

John tuned out the rest of the conversation between his husband and his best friend’s sons focusing instead on the newscast on the TV. The reporter was gushing over some Academy of Magic that was accepting candidates for training in the magical arts. Glancing down at his right hand John gasped as he recognized the Solomon's Key ring he wore as also being the school ring of the very same academy. So John had studied magic. He made a mental note to himself to check out the school on the net as soon as he could.

 

Lunch was quick and quiet with both younger men saying that they wanted to get home between hunts. Bobby nodded like the patriarch of the small ‘family’ and John supposed that both boys looked to the older man for guidance in hunting. Bobby was obviously well known, if the whispers and stares of the other patrons were anything to go by.

 

Finally, one young boy, around twelve, slipped close to the table. He grinned as Bobby turned and offered him a brief smile.

 

“Mr. Singer…would you sign your autograph please? My dad says you’re the hunter that took out those werewolves in Dallas last week.”

 

Bobby shrugged, but signed the paper napkin the boy shoved at him.

 

 “I don’t work alone Dean and Sam are a big part of the team, I’m getting a little old for it all now.”

 

Dean laughed.

 

 “Don’t let him kid you, boy. He’s still the number one honcho around here. Me and Sam just do the heavy lifting when the bodies hit the ground.”

 

Bobby looked inordinately please and John huffed, “Oh please…Dean. He’s hard enough to live with as it is.”

 

Bobby squeezed John’s shoulder and kissed him on the ear. The boy giggled and blushed.

 

“Yuck, mushy stuff.”

 

Turning to the two younger men the boy offered the paper again.

 

 “Please you, too?”

 

Sam watched as the boy scampered away with his treasured autographs.

 

 “Who wants to lay money they end up on E-bay by lunch?”

 

Dean chuckled, “God you’re a cynic.”

 

John stood in the diner parking lot watching as Bobby and the boys discussed where they were going next. For the moment there was no pending hunt, nothing pulling them in any one direction and they decided to head back to Minnesota with Bobby and John going on to Durham for a while.

 

It was a six hour drive, and by the time that the truck turned the bend in the road to Jim Murphy’s place John was more than ready to stretch his legs for a while. He leaned over rubbing his back and Bobby smiled at him.

 

“You okay baby?”

 

This constant ‘baby’ thing was really beginning to get to him, but John bit his lip holding in a retort. Just because John had never been one to use pet names for Mary or anyone else, for that matter, he couldn’t expect the entire world to follow his lead. It was thinking like that that had landed John in this place and he wasn’t going to fall into the same trap again.

 

The Impala made a slow arc around the final bend in the driveway and pulled to a halt beside Jim’s sedan. Bobby pulled the truck up parking beside the older car and John pushed the door open. Just as he got out the door to the house flew open and a figure appeared on the front porch. John felt his stomach clench, grasping the door handle hard enough to cut his fingers. He closed the door quietly rounding the front end of the truck before he couldn’t go on.

 

John stumbled to a halt, looking at the woman standing on the front porch of Jim Murphy's parsonage. His heart thudded in his chest and he felt a slow trickle of sweat slide down his spine. He wanted to run, to shout, to do anything but stand there watching as she lifted her arms up to take her boys into a hug.

 

Sam and Dean huddled around their mother pressing quick kisses on her temple. And she laughed, the deep throated sound that sent a thrill coursing down John's back. Mary was relieved, the same relief that he has always felt when the boys came back from a hunt alive and unscathed. Maybe she was a better parent because the relief was so evident on her face or maybe she had never had to learn to conceal her own fear so that her sons would be fearless. John felt a brief flash of jealousy at the open affection the boys poured on her. But he swallowed it and pressed close to Bobby.

 

The older man wrapped an arm around his waist and propelled John to the porch.  Mary smiled at them both offering first John then Bobby a quick, little peck on the cheek. From inside the house John could hear Jim's voice raised in surprise at seeing his sons home early. He rose looking so much like the Jim who was dead and buried back 'home' that John had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment.

 

Bobby noticed John's discomfort and quickly patted his back. John felt an irrational surge of anger, and wished that the older man wasn't so attuned to his every emotion, wasn't so attentive regarding John's well-being. But that was wrong, this Bobby was only doing what he did, only behaving in a way that he had always done. And John didn't have the right to expect Bobby to treat him any differently just because he was not the same man this Bobby had loved and married.

 

They settled in the small living room, the boys seated on stools in front of the bar that separated the kitchen and the living area. Mary settled on the sofa and John sat down in a large arm chair, away from her. It hurt to look at her now, the pain just as fresh as it had been the day she died. But this Mary, Jim's Mary was alive, laughing at some silly remark Dean made and John hated her for it for a brief moment.

 

Bobby shuffled past his chair blocking John's view of Mary's bright shining face then thumped down on the floor between John's spread legs, grasping one of his knees in each hand. Leaning back the older man settled against John. He found himself absently rubbing Bobby's shoulders.

 

They talked and laughed for a while, John following along with the conversations as best he could. It was odd hearing conversations about people that he knew, but didn't know. After a while John tuned it out, focusing instead on trying to make these people believe that he was their John.

 

After a while he shifted uncomfortably in the chair then glanced down the hall at the bathroom door. Sighing he patted Bobby on the back getting the other man to relinquish his seat on the floor so that John could stand up. Bobby shifted patting John's ass as he passed. The others laughed.

 

He padded down the hall to the bathroom. When he was finished relieving himself John stood looking out of the window for a few minutes. The church was a solid white presence across the yard, sturdy and inviting, a true sanctuary. John wondered what had drawn Mary to Jim. Why she had married the Pastor instead of him, or more precisely why had John married Bobby instead of her.

 

He could hear voices in the kitchen as he walked back to the living room, and without an ounce of guilt he slid into the shadows listening as Jim and Mary worked together getting dinner made for the small group. Jim's voice was smooth, soothing, but Mary sounded miffed. John grinned, he could just imagine the furrowed brows and wrinkled nose. He had been a victim of Mary's 'pissed-off' face too many times to count. He wondered how Jim was faring against her, probably no better than John had himself.

 

"Jim, I don’t want the boys hunting anymore. I know they chose to do it, and I trust Bobby but it’s so dangerous. I think Sam should go on to college like he wanted. I wish one of the boys was magically inclined then maybe John could write a letter and get him into the Academy."

 

"But neither one of them are gifted. You have to be born with it, magic is intrinsic not an acquired skill."

 

"I know, but if they're going to hunt, at least one of them would be behind the lines casting spells. I know it's harder but less dangerous."

 

"It's just as dangerous, the person casting spells is actually more at risk if the hunters aren't quick. John pulls his weight in the business. I don't know why you two have never gotten along."

 

Mary sighed and John cringed, desperately waiting for her answer.

 

"He's always been just a little hard to deal with. I don't know, but I think the magic part scares me. He's a little too close to the other side. Besides Bobby caters to his every whim."

 

"That's none of our business. Let Bobby handle his own marriage. I've seen him put his foot down with John a time or two."

 

Mary's laughter was every bit as enchanting as John remembered. He felt it all the way to the pit of his stomach.

 

"Oh please…Bobby spoils John rotten and we all know it."

 

John cringed, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. Well, his grandmother had always warned him not to listen to other people's conversations if he wasn't going to like what he heard. So he had a bit of a reputation as a brat.  At least now he knew what was expected of him, and Bobby did cave into to John at every opportunity. The Bobby Singer he had known wasn't like that, but then John wasn't a Prima Donna either. Sighing, he trudged back to the living room and sat down.

 

 

The house was quiet and John wished that Bobby had not been willing to stay the night before leaving for Durham. He lay still listening to the night sounds from outside the building. One of the things that John loved about the country was the peace, not the silence because the countryside was filled with noise even at night. But the sounds were natural, normal and not the harsh artificial sounds of the city at night.

 

He could hear the whispered voices of the other people in the house as well. Mary’s lyrical voice and the gentle laughter of the boys as they got ready for bed, still sharing the same room they had grown up in. A far different life for not so very different young men. John flinched when Bobby snorted and rolled over bare leg brushing John’s thigh. Flushing he wondered if the sound from this bedroom had carried as clearly to the room shared by Dean and Sam, wondered if the boys had heard him and Bobby making love earlier. 

 

No one seemed at all troubled by the fact that he and Bobby were married, considered it as normal as hunting or John’s use of magic. But John kept reminding himself, this was a different world. Vaguely he felt uneasy wondering what had happened to the soul of the man he had replaced. Had this John gone to hell in his place? He didn’t want that, didn’t want anyone else’s blood on his hands. God knew he had had enough of it as it was.

 

Bobby was warm, half-sprawled over him and John shuffled around prodding the other man in the ribs with an elbow. The older man wasn’t ticklish like John but he grunted once and rolled over freeing John to move. With a sigh he drifted off to sleep. And faint shimmering halo played around the corner of his vision even though John’s eyes were closed, and he realized that in this half-awake twilight state he was having a vision. He wondered what it would be like to have one fully awake. The sensation was disquieting, to say the least.

 

 

_John sighed feeling the mattress at his back. Suddenly a sharp pain lanced up his left arm_

_spreading into  his chest. He felt the numbing white hot bolt flashed up his am, cramping his jaw. John struggled to rise from the bed to call out but his body wouldn’t respond. Vision dimming, John collapsed back on the bed, feeling darkness creeping in on him._

Groaning John struggled upright in this bed. So he hadn’t pushed this John Winchester out of his body. The spirit of this man had left of its own accord. This John had died of a heart attack and when his spirit left his body in his own dimension John had been brought here. In a way that made this easier for him, John hadn’t outright murdered the man he replaced. At least Bobby hadn’t come back to the room and found his spouse dead.

 

They were seated at the table with Jim and his family when Jim brought up the idea that John and Bobby stay with them for another week, for the church's centennial celebration and July the 4th. John tried to gauge Bobby's feelings by studying the older man's face. He hated the idea of staying; being around Mary alive and happy without him was slowly killing John. But he also loathed the idea of giving up any time with Sam and Dean even if they were not his sons. John sighed, he just couldn't win and yet what could he say to Bobby. These were his friends, long time friends if the conversation was anything to go by, John's as well. But he was an outsider here now.

 

Bobby shrugged giving John a sideways glance.

 

"Well, the boys and me might pick up another hunt if an emergency comes up, but I don't mind. How 'bout you, baby?"

 

John flinched; he was beginning to hate that word. With a grunt John shrugged.

 

"I don't mind."

 

Bobby shot him a look that had 'Don't be a whiny little bitch' written all over it and John managed not to smack him as he rose from the table and trotted down the hall to the bedroom. His hand was shaking as he closed the door. Taking a deep breath he slid down the wall until he settled on the floor with his back to the bed. His head was aching slightly and he felt disorientated.

 

Grimacing John tugged his duffle bag over and searched inside for a bottle of aspirin. A clear plastic test-tube filled with blue crystals fell out of a rolled up shirt and he picked it up. The crystals were about the size of rock salt, mostly uniform and deep indigo blue in color. Casting a glance over his shoulder at the door John pulled the cork stopper out of the tube and shook one of them into his hand.

 

He rolled the test-tube in his other hand. There was no label on it, no note or written instructions in the shirt, but John had seen enough bags and bottles of illicit drugs palmed in dingy bars to know that he didn't have a prescription for this, whatever it was.

 

Some of the color leeched out of the small ragged crystal tinting John's palm, he lifted his hand sniffing experimentally. The rock itself smelled sweet, sugary and he thought that maybe the base was just large unprocessed sugar crystals. That would mean the drug was the blue liquid bleeding onto his skin.  He was sure that this John had used this substance, illegal or otherwise, and maybe that was what had caused his heart attack. But when John had moved into this body the craving for the drug had gone, just as all the damage it had caused was healed.

 

Still curiosity got the better of him and John dropped the crystal back into the tube licking at the minute trace of blue substance on his palm. His head whirled, but the disorientation went away immediately. Whatever the hell it was it was strong. And he had been addicted to it.

 

The drug worked its way through his system quickly and just the tiny taste he'd taken left John wanting more. He pulled the stopper and shook one of the crystals into his palm again. Suddenly there was a flurry of sound and movement behind him and Bobby's angry face swam into view. John winced as the older man grabbed his wrist shaking the crystal out of John's hand. With an angry snort John jerked his arm away and Bobby slapped him across the face.

 

His eyes widened and John dropped the test-tube clapping his hand to his cheek. The skin was warm and sensitive under his palm.

 

Bobby was furious.

 

 "You told me you weren't using anymore, John."

 

"I didn't…I wasn't going to. I mean, you hit me…"

 

"I'm not going to end up in the emergency room watching them shove a tube down your throat again. I'll have you committed this time."

 

Dropping to his knees Bobby grabbed John by both elbows; the younger man tried to wriggle away then glanced at the door. He was horrified to see Sam and Dean standing in the hallway with Jim behind. Apparently the others had heard Bobby's outburst. They were staring at the men seated on the floor.

 

"I mean it John. I'll put you in rehab. God, baby, you know what happens to a psychic who uses that stuff. I won't see you end up that way."  Bobby rose unsteadily pacing a few steps away from the bed. "How much did you take?"

 

Jim frowned pulling out his cell phone.

 

 "Bobby, do I need to call 911?"

 

John hauled himself to his feet flushed and angry.

 

 "No Jim you don't. I didn't take it. Bobby came in before I could. I just…I'm sorry."

 

With a frown Bobby caught John by the arm jerking him around, John uttered an abbreviated shout and across the room he could see Dean tense, taking a step forward. But Jim caught his son by the shoulder and Dean pulled to a halt. Bobby dropped his hand away from John's arm, and then shot the others a look.

 

 "I'm sorry folks. I just got a little shook up. I'm not going to hurt him. Dean can just settle down."

 

Shakily John rose to his feet, casting a shamed glance at the test-tube Bobby had cradled in his palm. The older man looked pale-faced, all the anger bleeding out of him as he shuddered and sighed.

 

Mary was standing in the hall beside her husband, cheeks wet with tears. She offered John a pity filled gaze and elbowed past the three men crowding the doorway. With a glare at Bobby, Mary hustled John out of the room and into the kitchen. He wanted to throw his arms around her, wanted to kiss her and pull her close to him, but he couldn't. A sharp pain lanced through his chest and he drew in one shivering breath letting it go in a deep moan.

 

She looked at him with a soft sweet smile playing on her lips. John shuddered again.

 

 "Mary…"

 

"Shhh, John its okay. Sometimes they just don't understand."

 

John was vaguely annoyed when he realized that she meant men, but somehow the rebuke that he was a man too wouldn't come out. He nodded fingers touching the bruised spot on is cheek.

 

"Bobby hit me." he said numbly.

 

Mary sighed pulling the freezer door open she fished a couple of ice cubes out of the box and wrapped them in a paper towel. John took it pressing it against his cheek even though the pain had faded and he had long ago dismissed it. Cocking his head John took a deep breath.

 

"Why didn’t' we get married? When we were younger?"

 

Mary smiled glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "Well, discounting the fact that you're gay?"

 

John smiled.

 

 "Yeah, there is that, but seriously we grew up together. Did you ever think about it?"

 

"John don't do this. You know it would have never worked. You know my father didn't approve of the magic thing. He didn't trust it. Besides Bobby would have killed anyone who looked twice at you. And your father…you know all that about the Academy and well, keeping you…uhmm,"

 

She blushed and John felt his cheeks going warm as well. There was something there, something she wasn't telling him. 

 

"Keeping me?" he prompted.

 

Mary shook her head.

 

"You know, your father watched you like a hawk to make sure you were a virgin until you were accepted in the Academy. You know they wouldn't take anyone who wasn't a virgin, back then. He wouldn't even let you and Bobby get married until you were eighteen."

 

John nodded that did explain a lot. There were certain incantations that couldn't be performed by someone who was not a virgin. And a virgin's blood had power, it was inviolable. But he had married Bobby so something changed. Maybe after a certain time period that particular aspect of a magic user didn't matter any more.

 

Pouring him a cup of tea Mary set it down on the table then she helped herself to a cup as well. She settled down in a chair sipping at the warm liquid. John swallowed the tea and looked at her. She was just as beautiful as he remembered even with the thin threads of gray in her hair, and the fine lines around her eyes. He closed his eyes. Mary looked up as voices sounded in the hall.

 

"Looks like the men are all settled down."

 

"Mary, I may be gay but I'm a man too."

 

"I know it's just… I'm sorry we were never better friends John. You and Bobby have been good to the boys.  I appreciate the fact that you keep my sons safe, even indirectly."

 

"I'm glad to do it, Mary."

 

 

 

Bobby rolled off of John with a groan and flopped back on the bed. With a grin he dragged a corner of the sheet up swiping at his sweat-stained face. John rolled his eyes; the older man looked way too self-satisfied for his liking. But John merely stretched his shoulders and let his breath out in one long sigh. He had never been this well-fucked in his life. Bobby was insatiable.  If John had known that the other man was this good in bed he might have been inclined to take Bobby up on his offer "back there" as John had begun to think of the other time-line in his mind.

 

Bobby was dozing in the patch of sunlight that fell across the bed from the window; his chest rising and falling in little hitches as he snored then snorted trying to keep himself awake. It was mid-afternoon and John could hear the boys out in the yard talking to their father. He winced again. Suddenly despair ripped at John, this wasn't his life. He almost wished that he had gone to hell. What had been the point in bringing him here? Yes, he was alive, but this life was no less torment than an eternity in the fire pits of hell would have been.

 

The more he thought about it the more John was sure that his soul had been shuttled across some cosmic gameboard to this place, not for his sake but for Bobby's. The older man adored John, loved him with the same passion and devotion that John had loved Mary "back there."  Was that the reason that God…the Powers that Be…whoever… had brought John here, to keep Bobby from traveling the same road John had taken or maybe doing something worse?

 

Sighing John looked down at this left hand, angry that the ring Mary had given him was gone and in its place were these rings, the engagement ring with its three diamonds-too gaudy for his tastes and the band that was the mate to the one Bobby wore. He thought about taking them off but that would confuse and hurt the other man, and once again John reminded himself that none of this was Bobby's fault. This John had loved Bobby enough to marry him, now _he_ was here trying to fill that role. Could he explain this to Bobby?

If some other spirit of Mary had been displaced, sent hurtling across the void, into her body would John have accepted her? Would she have been "his" Mary or just an empty shell with someone else residing in it? He would have turned her away, wouldn't he?

 

John flinched, because deep inside he knew that he would have never walked away from her, even knowing it wasn’t really his Mary. He'd never stood in the crossroads and asked for a deal for Mary because John knew he was weak enough that he would have taken whatever he got, undead or otherwise, if he could have only held her close to him one more time.

 

Rolling over John stared at the other man. Was he a millstone around Bobby's neck, was that what 'she' had been to John? If he did tell Bobby the truth about what had happened John didn't think it would make a difference. Somewhere in the back of his mind a thought stirred and an image of the older man weeping over the still, cold body he found laying in bed waiting for him. John felt the strange and yet familiar sensation of the aura before the vision set in. The image grew and expanded…

 

_Bobby sobbed, rocking John's dead body, holding the younger man tightly, unafraid of hurting him now. His face twisted in grief and rage the hunter gently slid his spouse's body into the sheets covering him in the white linen._

_Taking a deep breath Bobby pawed his wallet out of the rear pocket of his blood stained jeans lifting a picture out of it. Through the haze of pain a smile crept across his face as Bobby touched his finger to the image, traced over the beloved face of the boy smiling at him on their wedding day. He had not been without this picture for thirty-four years, not seen one day pass that he had not thanked every benevolent deity he could think of for this man who had shared his life._

_Quickly Bobby rose from the bed and walked to the door. Leaving the lights on, the room too still and quiet, he closed the door. Bobby's truck was in a parking spot outside the room he unlocked it and climbed inside. Across the walkway the older man could see the face of one of Jim Murphy's boys framed in the window, the younger man frowning as his friend's truck peeled out of the parking lot._

_The streets were bare, almost empty at this time of night…morning really and the truck made good time out of the city and into the surrounding countryside. Tires squealing the big pick-up slewed across the road and bumped into a ditch at the first intersection that Bobby came too. He stepped out not caring who saw him now._

_Staggering to the cross-roads as if he was drunk Bobby dropped to his knees digging in the hard packed earth. Clods of soil skittered over his hands bouncing and tumbling away as he scraped a furrow in the ground. The picture from his wallet slipped out of his numb fingers and Bobby dumped loose soil over it._

_Rising on shaking legs he waited, and it wasn't long. She was there in an instant; of course she would come for him. They all would have come running for him, and Bobby offered her a grim smile. Her smile in return was cold and mocking as if she had lost her respect for a man this weak. Bobby grunted out a curse and she winced. The bitch might not respect Bobby but she damn sure feared him._

_"So you want to make a deal to get poor sweet Johnny back? Bobby, don't you know what's dead should stay dead?"_

_"I don't care; you name your price…"_

_"Well, the standard contract is ten years, but my boss might be in a hurry to see you."_

_Bobby grunted again, "Ten years or ten minutes I don't care as long as I get to see him one more time before I go."_

_"I'll give you the ten years; I wonder how you'll feel about him in the end?"_

_Bobby's grin was sickly, stretch tight across his face._

_"I'll still love him and that's something you'll never understand."_

_She smiled easing up to him to seal the deal. When it was over Bobby shoved her away, and she laughed. He watched her fade away the smile still on her lips then hurried back to his truck. He needed to get back to the hotel room, get John cleaned up before he realized what had happened._

_The door to Sam and Dean's room opened and Dean crept outside. His brother was asleep in one of the beds in the room and Bobby was gone. Taking a deep breath he rapped on the door to John and Bobby's room. With a tiny squeak the door swung in._

_Dean could just make out the faint shape of the older man's body swathed in sheets lying on the bed. It was damn thoughtless of Bobby to leave the door unlocked with John asleep inside. A smile tugged at the corners of Dean's lips._

_"John, I saw Bobby leave…you two didn't have a fight did you? You didn't tell him, you know…" Dean frowned when John didn't respond. Taking a step closer the younger man settled on the edge of the bed shaking John's shoulder. "John don't be mad at me. Come on how long is Bobby going to be gone, maybe we can sneak in a quickie?”_

_Dean frowned; the figure beneath his hands was cold and stiff, his shoulder rigid. Then suddenly John took a deep shuddering breath and rolled over. Blinking owlishly he smiled up at the younger man. "You want to fuck me?"_

_Grinning Dean's fingers went to the buttons of his shirt. "Hell yes."_

_A cold, calculating look stole across John's face as his fingers traced the bulge in the younger man's jean. "Uhmmm, god you got a cock on you.  Too bad…"_

_A scream bubbled on Dean's lips as John's fingers tightened on his crotch. He tried to pull away but the other man's grip was like iron. John struggled upright in the bed as his fingers ripped into the heavy denim jeans, blood seeped through the fabric and Dean slapped John. The older man's head rocked back but he just smiled his fingers twisting. Blood spurted over his knuckles, running in crimson steams down his fingers. His wedding ring glinted in the light then blood pooled over its surface clouding the diamonds and metal._

_With a grin John pushed Dean into the floor pulling his hand free of the tattered cloth. Raising his hand John licked at the blood and shreds of flesh clinging to his fingertips._

_The door swung inward and Bobby stood framed in the sickly yellow glow of the sodium arc lights in the parking lot. John's face was dark, expression petulant, and his skin was smeared with clots of flesh and blood. Bobby moaned._

_Walking around the foot of the bed the older man jerked to a halt staring at the body on the floor. John looked up._

_"He wanted to fuck me. Did you know that? Your best friend's son had a thing for me and you never noticed. Dean has been after me for years now, wanting to slip behind your back. He wanted to shove his dick up my ass, but he would have settled for my mouth." Licking his lips John picked a bit of flesh off his thumb with his teeth. "Well, I guess he got his wish."_

_Choking back a cry Bobby staggered away from the bed. He managed to reach the duffle bag on the table before John could rise from his seat on the bed. Hand shaking he raised the Beretta. The sound of a gun shot filled the room and John's body flew back on the bed, a single hole in the center of his forehead. Bobby moaned again raising the gun. He pressed the barrel under his chin and another gunshot sliced through the still night air…_

Gasping John threw the covers off and staggered to the bathroom retching. He slid into the floor pressing his forehead to the cold porcelain toilet. He was shaking uncontrollably and closed his eyes. These visions of things that might have happened or would have happened were overwhelming.

 

There was a flurry of movement behind him then John was wrapped in Bobby's arms.

A sob hitched in his chest as he burrowed against the soft pale skin and reddish blond hair. Bobby stroked John's back and John felt himself arch into the touch.

 

"I want to go home," John whispered.

 

Bobby nodded.

 

"Okay, we'll get the truck loaded."

 

Shaking his head John said,

 

"No you don't understand. I want…I want."

 

Bobby sighed,

 

"What do want, baby? Whatever it is I'll do it for you or get it for you. Anything you need, you know that."

 

Hiding his smile against the older man's chest John sighed. Of course that would be Bobby's attitude.

 

"You can't fix this."

 

"I can fix anything, Johnny."

 

"God, I love you," John said huffing out a laugh.

 

And it was true he did love this man. Finally, John settled back letting Bobby hold him. He could do this, it wasn't that hard. He did love Bobby. This was what his life was now, for better or worse, he couldn't leave Bobby now.

 

Puffing up his chest Bobby laughed into he younger man's hair.

 

"Hey, what's not to love? I'm great!"

 

Taking another deep breath John slipped out of the older man's arms cocking his head he stared at Bobby until he blushed and looked away. Finally John offered him a weak grin. Clambering unsteadily to his knees he pressed a kiss on Bobby's thin lips.

 

"I want to hunt with you, all the time."

 

Bobby let his head fall to one side offering the younger man a stilted grin.

 

"Are you sure? I mean you never liked hunting, and you can cast spells from behind the lines."

 

John shook his head.

 

"Please, I want to go with you and Sam and Dean. I want to hunt, carry a gun, the whole nine yards."

 

"John, you can't even drive a car let alone shoot a gun."

 

John looked scandalized.

 

"I can drive…" he snapped and Bobby chuckled. John smacked him on the arm. Bobby flinched rubbing his skin.

 

"You backed my truck into the garage and took out half the laundry room in the house. It scared the crap out of me.  I thought you were going to take out the gas line for the hot water heater."

 

"I just needed to practice."

 

Bobby shot him a look, lips compressed to the point of disappearing into his beard.

 

"John you ain't been 'practicing' behind my back when I'm with the boys, have you?"

 

"Uhhh, Bobby, can we go to the mall?" John asked rising to his feet and flipping on the shower.

 

Bobby rolled his eyes.

 

"Don't change the subject on me, baby. If anything happened to you, it'd kill me; you know that, don't you?"

 

John stepped into the shower then slid back making room for the other man.

 

"God wouldn't let that happen, Bobby. You're a warrior for good; he'd make sure you were covered."

 

"I don't think that God pays much heed to the doings of ol' Bobby Singer."

 

Leaning back into Bobby's chest John closed his eyes.

 

"Don't kid yourself old man. You'd be damned surprised at what He'd do for you."

 

 

Jim, Mary and the boys were gathered in the living room when John and Bobby appeared, freshly showered. Mary looked at John and blushed; he felt his own face growing warm in return. He hadn't thought that he and Bobby going to bed would be noticed by the others but apparently it had been.

 

Idly John wondered how often Jim and Mary had sex, and then decided he really didn't want to know. But if her look at Jim was anything to go by it was not as often as he and Bobby. He smiled at the others.

 

"Bobby and I are going to the mall, anybody up for a trip?"

 

 

The mall was crowded as John dragged Bobby into the Land's End store and headed straight for the causal clothing. He picked up several pairs of heavy denim jeans and some dark colored t-shirts. Bobby followed along behind him looking at John as if he had lost his mind. Finally the older man tugged John to a halt and picked up a navy blue blazer and wool slacks.

 

"These are more along your usual line, look it’s cashmere, you like that, John."

 

He held up the jacket with a hopeful look on his face and John looked at the six hundred dollar price tag and felt his jaw drop. Bobby smiled again this time more hopefully and John flinched.

 

"I want flannel and t-shirts. I'm tired of looking like a Ken doll."

 

"What?" Bobby asked as the salesclerk took the blazer with a shrug.

 

The older man followed John though the store blinking at the growing pile of clothes in his arms.

 

John tossed the clothing he was carrying into the older man's arms and Bobby looked over the pile of fabric with a grimace.

 

"Baby, you feelin' okay? I mean…John, you usually look a little more…"

 

"Candy-assed?" John asked with a frown.

 

Bobby coughed as if he was choking then blinked. Shooting him a smug grin John tossed a denim jacket on the top of the pile and fled to the shoe department. When Bobby caught up with him John had discarded the expensive Italian loafers in favor of a pair of steel-toed work boots. Bobby grunted taking a deep breath.

 

The salesgirl approached Bobby with a grin.

 

"Nice to see you again Mr. Singer. Are you and Mr. Winchester doing well?"

 

"Just fine," John interrupted handing her the loafers. "Toss those in this box for me, will ya' sweetheart."

 

The girl and Bobby both flinched. She cocked her head and Bobby shrugged.

 

"Please we're ---uhmm, going through a little change of style this month."

 

She nodded sagely and John winced; apparently he had done this before. It made him feel a bit better and Bobby didn't mind. In fact, he looked more amused than angry. John flashed him a grin. Sidling up to the younger man Bobby shifted the every growing pile of clothes and leaned forward to whisper in John's ear,

 

"You know I expect something in return for this, John."

 

John shivered looking at the older man from under his lashes.

 

"Like you don't get it enough as it is."

 

Shaking his head Bobby grinned.

 

"No I mean something a little extra special."

 

"Extra special?" John said with a more pronounced shiver. Bobby's grin widened.

 

"After we get done here I plan on stopping at Victoria's Secret."

 

"You want to pick up a hooker later?" John sniffed and Bobby burst out laughing. He slid a hand down John's arm, and then patted his ass.

 

"They got new stuff in the plus size department and midnight blue is just your color."

 

"What?" John's eyes flew wide opened as his jaw dropped. Bobby flashed him a smug grin; apparently they'd done this before too.

 

 

John stood beside the cash register as the clerk rang up their purchases. He actually flinched when the total appeared on the screen. Bobby paid the tab without batting an eyelash and John sighed. It looked like hunting was a whole lot more lucrative in this time-line than it had been in his old time-line.

 

Taking half the bags Bobby passed them to John then picked up the rest. They met with Sam and Dean on the walk-way then headed over to the other store. Sam's mouth gaped open when they walked in and John could see Dean eyeing the salesgirls with a smirk. He smiled, this world or that one, Dean was still Dean. John waited for the pain to set in and somehow it didn't hurt as much as he had thought it would.

 

He stood there waiting for Bobby to find what he wanted, wondering what he had just gotten himself into when a blushing petite young woman in a pink sweater, that more than nicely draped her own assets, motioned John over.

 

Bobby stood, chin cradled in his palm, as the girl lifted a camisole of silk and black lace out for John and he stared at her. He could feel the heat in his face and knew he was blushing like crazy. With shaking hands John accepted the garment. It was deep midnight blue and shimmered softly in the muted, soft lighting. The straps were thin, doubled, but he knew they could be adjusted. The fabric was whisper soft and drifted through John's fingers like water through a sieve. Blinking, he looked at Bobby and was caught by the heat in those pale blue eyes. Swallowing hard John reached out and took the matching panties.

 

The girl flushed crimson then looked over at the older man.

 

"Is that okay?"

 

"Oh yeah…"

 

John groaned as she took the two items to the cash register with Bobby following along. He couldn't believe that he had just agreed to dress in women's underwear for Bobby. But considering the look on the other man's face John didn't think he'd actually be in them for that long.

 

By the time they made it to the café John's stomach was rumbling and he took a deep breath. The scent wafting on the cool, air-conditioned breeze was tantalizing. They asked for a table on the patio and sat in silence looking over the menu.

 

The waitress appeared and they asked for beer all around. Bobby frowned slightly and John knew he was wrong, but he didn't care. Yes, he had to live in this world, in this borrowed body, but it was his life now. Things were going to change.

 

The waiter had just taken their orders when John sat back. His attention had been wandering and he felt a buzz at the back of his head that had nothing to do with the beer he was drinking. The sunlight seemed to dance on the brightly painted surface of the wrought iron tables, and he watched the shimmering light twist and bend. It was almost like the feeling he had had earlier that day when he had the vision. But he had been in the trance-like state between sleep and wakefulness then, the vision more ephemeral.

 

Now the light bent and roiled dancing around the edges of the table. It was warm, golden and beautiful and John found himself caught, then suddenly the pain hit. Screaming John clasped his temples back going rigid. Bobby was out of his chair and on his feet in seconds but not quickly enough to keep John from toppling over, the chair skittering out from under him as his back impacted the brick patio floor.

 

The rough stone scraped his arm and hip as John writhed on the ground. Then Bobby vanished from his sight, the mall faded from view and John was standing in the forest surrounding the town. It was dark and cold, the clear blue light of the moon glinting on the silky leaves of the trees and underbrush.

 

_Panting, John turned, as far off in the distance he could just make out the growl of some large predator; the wavering keening cry sweeping the night air. Dead and dying leaves crackled under his booted feet as John tried to find the path back to the mall, but he was alone and the animal was coming closer. In a minute the brush parted and a beast, large, dark, shaggy-haired, burst into the clearing. John braced himself for the impact, the thud of muscle colliding with muscle. But the werewolf passed by him or through him and continued on the path farther into the woods._

_John turned to follow._

_The thick growth of trees and bush parted and he could see a wide expanse of meadow. The flat grass hung limply, only barely stirred by the soft breeze. There were two figures on the path, and they both turned as the creature sprang out of the brush heading toward them at a staggering lope._

_John shouted a warning, screaming at them to run, but they didn't respond, merely stood gaping as the werewolf closed on them, then finally, with heart-rending desperation the boy pushed the girl forward urging her onward. But they were too slow, and John knew one of them was going to die._

_He shouted, slapping his hands against his leg trying desperately to get the creature to focus on him and leave the two young people alone. The thing didn't even notice him. It closed the ground between itself and the two kids in a few long strides. The boy made an attempt at pushing the werewolf away, screaming at the girl to move, but she stood her ground not abandoning him._

_The werewolf knocked the boy aside and he fell, neck snapping with a sickening crunch of bone. John flinched. Uninterested in dead flesh the werewolf closed in on the girl. She screamed once as its snout hit her chest, the blood sprayed over its gray fur and she was quiet. John cringed._

He screamed again clawing at the hands that held him, and then John blinked. The light was soft and golden yellow around Bobby's head and shoulders. Drawing in a ragged breath John grabbed the other man's hands.

 

"It killed them…it killed them both. The boy is alright, his neck broke, but it bit the girl. She'll turn…Bobby, she'll turn."

 

"Whoa, John just calm down. It's okay it hasn't happened. They're not dead…not yet. We got to find them. You said it killed them; what did baby?"

 

Shaking, John gratefully took the glass of water the waiter held out, offering the younger man an apologetic grimace in return. He thought the other people in the café might be angry or embarrassed but looking around he could see nothing but concerned faces. Some people were staring openly but with expectant looks and John realized that most of them were fascinated by his having a vision. He felt like a side-show freak.

 

Dean knelt down easing his arm under John's shoulders and Bobby helped drag him to his feet. He took two unsteady steps to the chair and collapsed. The manager of the café came over to the table with a small brown bottle in her hand. She smiled at John then offered the bottle to Bobby.

 

"Its belladonna water, it'll help with the pain. Our worker's comp doctor makes sure we have it on hand in case we have any wait-staff who has visions."

 

"Thank you, ma'am," Bobby nodded. "Baby you take a spoonful of this, okay. It'll help with the migraine."

 

The pain had set in full force and John didn’t argue. He swallowed the bitter liquid then started to chase it with a swig of the beer. Sam intercepted him and shoved a glass of milk at him. By the time the food arrived John was feeling sleepy but the pain had faded to a dull ache and he was ravenous. Between bites Bobby and the boys questioned John about the vision.

 

"It’s a werewolf," John said quietly. His headache was fading and he felt more like himself. It still freaked him out a little that they were able to sit here in broad daylight and talk about werewolves and no one gave them a second thought.

 

 

Wind whispered through the trees ruffling John's hair as he squatted above the glyph he had drawn on the ground in white limestone powder. Carefully he dropped a red glass encased candle on the central arc of the character making sure that the white powder framed the glass equally on all sides. With a grimace he tapped the candle slightly moving it just a few centimeters. Taking a deep breath he lit the candle then rocked back on his heels. Picking up his bag John carefully pulled out a small pewter bowl etched with intricate designs. His large fingers deftly cradled the bowl as he sifted a fine layer of powdered herbs into the container. He followed the powder with a thin trickle of oil then layered another herb on top of the first.

 

Light flared as he struck a match and the bowl was enveloped in a pale blue fire. The flames danced across John's skin but he didn't wince in pain, there was none, just the cool soft glow. Far off in the distance Bobby, Sam and Dean were spread out through the forest looking for the werewolf in John's vision. They were out of his effective range of hearing now, and John was unsettled.

 

Rocking back on his heels again John sat huddled against the cold wind. The glyph had two purposes; one was as a locator spell, the other a revelation spell. The truth was revealed in the blue flames; whether it was inner truth or outer truth John had no control. With a soft sigh he sat, still, silent, waiting.

 

A sound split the air, and John jerked around, glancing at the path. Somewhere out there the boys and Bobby were spread out. He was supposed to watch the sigil, track the beast, and stay behind the lines within the soft glow of the incantation, but John couldn't. What if the werewolf found the boys before they found it? Taking a deep breath he wrestled the gun from his pocket and checked the slide. It clicked home with a satisfying snap, and he popped the clip.

 

Rising to his feet John stepped out of the circle of the blue flames. The trees to his left rustled and split open. The dark form emerged, tall and lean with hunched shoulders. John gasped, stepping back. The werewolf spotted him, huge shaggy head rolling around. The creature narrowed its eyes, panting.

 

The gun came up in his hands smoothly, and John slipped back further feeling his back

scrape over the rough bark on the tree trunk behind him. The werewolf took one unsteady step forward and that was when John saw the blood on the thing's hide. It was injured, either one of the boys or Bobby must have come across it earlier. Fear seized him and John fired.

 

The shot went wide as he suddenly realized that, although he had the knowledge, this body did not have the muscle memory for gunfire. His wrist didn't seem strong enough for the Colt. John cursed.  When he had asked Bobby for one of the guns in the weapons box under the false bottom of his pick-up he should have asked for the Glock. The smaller grip and smaller caliber would have been easier to handle. He was lost here, floundering, and he was going to die.

 

With an enraged snarl the werewolf sprang toward him covering the ground in an easy loping stride. John wrestled the gun up again knowing he was not going to be able to hit the thing.  His second shot dug up the turf at the werewolf's feet and it skidded to a halt.

Yellow eyes gleamed at John and he felt his stomach churn. The creature’s tongue lolled out, and he could swear the damned thing was smiling at him. John flinched raising the gun again.

 

The werewolf lunged.

 

From somewhere to his left the sound of thunder filled the air. The creature yelped; body twisting in midair as blood jetted out of its chest. Whining the werewolf hit the ground on its back then rolled onto its belly, clawing at the soft ground.

 

Bobby stepped out of the shadows, raising the shotgun he carried once again. The second shot ripped into the beast's spine, crippling it. The last shot took the head almost all the way off.  Panting, John turned away and vomited everything he had in his stomach. His wrist ached, and John was sure he had sprained it, and there was a maddenly slow itch between his shoulders. The slow trickle of fluid that was probably blood from where he had scraped his back raw.

 

His breath hitched and before John knew what was happening he had burst into tears. Bobby caught him up in a tight hug, holding him close, whispering into his hair. John shivered and shook, and hated himself. This was just one more reminder that he was a stranger in a strange land. The outsider, here, in this body, someone had borrowed for him from a dead man.

 

And as much as John wanted to make this his life, it wasn't going to be. Mary was never going to be his again, Dean and Sam weren't his sons, and this wasn't the John Winchester who had sold his soul to a demon for his boy's life.

The four men sat silently at the table in the small, rundown diner they had found just on the freeway back to Blue Earth. John was huddled over his coffee cup eyes downcast. Sam shrugged a shoulder at Bobby and the older man just grimaced.

 

Dean grunted sliding into the booth beside his brother. Sam hunched over, his taller frame not meant for the cramped confines of the booth. With a sigh Dean reached across the table and patted John on the hand. With a growl John jerked back shooting Dean a dark glare.

 

"Whoa, where'd that come from dude?"

 

John flinched jerking away and hissing when hot coffee slopped out of the mug splattering his bare skin. His eyes went black with rage, "You know where it comes from so just cut it out."

 

There was a pained silence as Bobby and Jim's older son regarded each other with thinly veiled embarrassment. John cast a sideways glance at Bobby's rigid features wondering just what he had hit on. There was anger in Bobby's compressed lips; whatever had happened had caused a rift between the two men. And the thin veneer of good old boy camaraderie barely covered the hurt.

 

Unobtrusively John slid his hand over the table top and caught Dean's wrist, focusing his tattered mental resources. The first rush of warmth flowed around John as the vision caught, then spread into a white hot light surrounding him, pulling him in…

 

_John could hear the thumping noise of the two younger men horsing around in the hotel room next door. Bobby had gone out to get a bottle of Jim Beam for himself and a bottle of red wine for John. The noise in the next room reached a crescendo of thumping and laughing and John pounded on the wall snarling as angrily as he could over his muffled laughter._

_Dean's voice carried through the paper thin walls, "Knock it off old man or one of us will come over there and kick your ass."_

_Rolling his eyes John snickered at the mad giggling from Jim's boys and pounded a little louder on the wall. He vaguely wondered if this was a good idea since Bobby would be pissed if they got all of them kicked out of the hotel, even Bobby's fame in the hunting community could only give them so much immunity. But good sense seemed to be slipping right out of his reach and John snapped, "You and what army, boy?"_

_"That's it old man. I warned you now I'm coming over there."_

_John slid off the bed and made a grab for his robe, but it slipped out of his fingers. Well the boys had seen him dressed in only his underwear before and it was just Dean. He staggered to the door still laughing then flinched as Dean began shouting on the other side. Okay, this had gone far enough. Quickly John grabbed the door handle and flung the door open._

_Dean barged through the door slamming into John and pushing him across the floor to the bed. John's knees hit the bed and he tumbled over landing on his back with Dean perched over him like a vulture sitting on the body of a dying man. John's breath huffed out of him with an audible grunt._

_Laughing Dean got both of the older man's wrists in his hands clamping them to the bed. John tugged snickering, "Okay so you got me, get off…"_

_Dean's eyes were sparkling with mischief and clouded by whiskey. John could smell the harsh scent of the alcohol on the younger man's breath when he bent over, face looming in John's field of vision. Turning his head John pulled at the younger man's hands._

_"Dean let me up. This is a little uncomfortable for me. God knows what it would look like to someone else. Someone who doesn't know you and your brother so well."_

_"Someone like your husband? Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be with someone else besides Bobby?"_

_"That's none of your business. Dean get off me."_

_Dean smiled pressing his thumb into the underside of John's wrists hard enough to make him wince in pain. "No it would be none of my business if I asked if you had ever fucked anyone beside Bobby…but you haven't, have you? I mean you had to be a virgin to get into the academy and you and Bobby got married as soon as you were legal so I'm betting you've never done anyone else."_

_"Dean, if your Daddy wasn't one of Bobby's oldest friends he'd kill you. You're drunk and letting it make you stupid. Get off me now."_

_"For as long as I can remember I've loved you John. Having your approval is all I've ever wanted; I need you to love me…please."_

_"I do, just not the way you think. I love you like you were my own son, Dean," John said feeling the tightness clench his heart. He groaned and Dean leaned down. John barely turned his head away in time as Dean swooped down. The kiss slid across John's cheek and he flinched at the wet sloppiness of it._

_"John, come on, just let me, just once. You won't regret it."_

_"Get off Dean, and go back to your room. You're making me mad, and if you let me go now I won't say anything to Bobby."_

_Dean frowned but his grip on John's wrists slackened and John pulled away. With an embarrassed grin Dean reached up, fingers stroking over John's cheek. "God, I'm sorry. You're right; I am drunk, Sam and I were messing around and it got out of control. I needed to get out, but…shit… I'm sorry John."_

_Sliding off the bed Dean staggered upright then froze staring at the figure standing in the door. John sat up pulling his shirt down then sighed until Bobby stepped into the room._

_The look on the older man's face froze him in place. Bobby sauntered into the room staring at the younger man and Dean blanched._

_"If your Daddy wasn't my friend, if I didn't have to look your Mama in the eyes when I told them you were dead, I'd kill you. Don't you ever put your hands on him again. You got that boy?"_

Sitting back John stared at the younger man across the table noting the dull blush that traveled over Dean's cheeks. He sighed Dean had always wanted, needed, John's love and approval "before" and here this Dean was in love with him, the parallels between this world and his were enough to drive John insane. He had to tell Bobby, before this all pushed John over the edge. He just hoped the older man could take it. Now John just had to figure out how to do this.

 

 

 

They were sitting in the truck following Dean's car back to the house when John decided to take the plunge. Glancing out the window he took a deep breath.

 

"Are you still mad at Dean about what happened?"

 

"That was last year, John. He's still here and breathing ain't he?"

 

"Bobby I need to talk to you about something…"

 

Bobby slammed on the brakes and the truck skidded across the road coming to rest on the down slope of the shoulder of the asphalt.

 

"Did he touch you again?"

 

"No! That's not what I wanted to talk to you about. If I don't talk to you about this now it'll drive me crazy. I don't know if there is ever going to be a right time or place, but Bobby…"

 

"Oh God! John are trying to tell me you want a divorce?"

 

"No, no that's not what I mean at all. Haven't you noticed that I've been different? That things don't seem the same…exactly?"

 

"Baby, are you smoking that stuff again?" Bobby asked with a snort of amusement. John shot him a long suffering look. The smug grin slowly faded from the older man's face. "John what are you talkin' about?"

 

"Bobby just shut the engine off and listen will you," John said rubbing his temples with his fingers. "Your John the one that you married well, I'm not him. I come from some other dimension or timeline something like that. I was married to Mary and Sam and Dean were my sons. I became a hunter when Mary was killed by a demon and in the end when we finally tracked it down it almost killed me and the boys. I made a deal with the bastard to trade my soul for Dean's life. But instead of going to hell I ended up here. I had a dream or a vision and it seems that God brought my soul here to this body when your John died in his sleep of a heart attack."

 

Bobby slumped down his face ashen, "Are you telling me…"

 

"I'm not on drugs and I'm not crazy. It’s the truth, Bobby."

 

"I don't have any reason not to believe you. I've heard of trans-dimensional crossings. Hell, demons do it every time they show up in our world. All this time that we've been together you didn't feel what he felt?"

 

John shook his head reaching across the truck bench to grasp the older man's hand. "I did feel it, I mean this body still feels…"

 

"The person just ain't the body. You are the life force, just because you got put into another body to take the place of the one you left behind. You're the one I'm dealing with the John Winchester inside. Oh my God…all this time that we’ve been together have I been raping you?"

 

"No, this body loves you," John flinched at the look on the other man's face. Quickly he raised his hand. "I love you. You and me we were on the way to this in the other place too. I kept us apart, but I felt it there and I know Bobby…that Bobby… felt it too. I do love you here, there… that hasn't changed. But I can’t lie to you either. I thought that I could just be your John, but I don't know how and this body doesn't know how to be me."

 

With a sigh Bobby looked over at John. "I won't make you do something you can't do. I'll give you a good settlement if you do want that divorce."

 

"I don't want a divorce, I love you Bobby."

 

"God, I love you so much ba…uh…John."

 

"Call me baby if you want to, this doesn't have to be hard. I should have never said anything but I was going out of my mind. I don't want you to change anything. But you deserved the truth…if you want me to leave I will and you don't owe me anything."

 

"For the past three weeks I haven't been able to tell the difference. I should have known that something was wrong. You did a good job of covering up."

 

"I didn’t mean to hurt you."

 

"Maybe I didn’t love John as much as I thought…I should have noticed."

 

"Believe me you loved him. I saw what would have happened if I hadn't come here. It wasn't pretty. I came here to keep you from doing that, to help you keep fighting the good fight and all. And I want to help you. I thought I could just pick up where I left off, but here I can't even shoot the goddamn gun. I could have gotten you and the boys killed because I'm incompetent."

 

"Baby you fight your way and we fight ours…"

 

"But it isn't my way; I'm used to fighting with a gun in my hand."

 

"Then I'll teach you, starting this afternoon we'll go through basic weapons, and I should have known better than to start you out on the .45. We'll get you that Glock .37. It's got a smaller grip and less recoil."

 

"That's what I was thinking. I should have remembered that, but a Glock is a good lady's gun and I wanted the Colt."

 

"John. Honey, you've always been too delicate for that much gun. You're use to casting spells and performing incantations. You stick with the Glock and I'll teach you how to use it."

 

"Okay, Bobby whatever you say." John smiled and Bobby flushed. It felt so right. With a grin John slid across the seat. "Pull over into the bushes."

 

The heat in the older man's cheeks deepened, "Why?"

 

"Because I want you to make love to me."

 

Coughing Bobby made a motion to the back of the bench, "Uhh the seat is a bit too short for us to stretch out."

 

"The truck bed ain't. Hell…" John whispered, "I'll just drop my pants and bend over the goddamn hood."

 

"John, you're gonna be the death of me talking like that."

 

John flashed him a grin and both dimples, "Yeah but it'll take them two weeks to wipe the smile off your face before we plant you."

 

 

They were late getting back to the house, and from the look on everyone's faces there was no misunderstanding as to why. John sauntered into the house with his shirt untucked and half buttoned. Mary rolled her eyes and he snickered behind his hand.

 

Dean appeared at the door waving his cell phone in Bobby's direction. "We got a call from Caleb they need us in Green Bay. It looks like some kind of water witch."

 

Bobby nodded, "All right call him back and tell him were moving out tonight. John we'll need you there, a water witch is intrinsically magic and you'll have to counter any spells it throws at us."

 

"Okay, but you promised to get me that gun." John said tentatively. Bobby flinched.

 

"Baby, not this time. I need you to concentrate on the magic support for us." He paused noting John's dark expression. "Okay okay…I'll get you that Glock out of the truck. It'll

take us a couple of days to get to Green Bay so we'll have to go quick. I don't want you depending on the gun, you hear me, you use magic if anything happens and you need to defend yourself."

 

Nodding John smiled at the older man, "I will, Bobby. I promise."

 

 

Later as they packed the last of their belongings in their duffle bags John leaned over the bag pawing through the contents. He picked up the smaller bag that was filled with supplies for casting spells and turned to Bobby with a puzzled look on his face. "Bobby there is one thing I don’t understand. In my dimension or time-line I didn't use magic all that much. I was familiar with it and did cast some spells but it was not a major thing for me. I know that this body is familiar with using magic but why can I do it? Magic is a mental thing more than a physical thing."

 

Settling back against the bed Bobby shrugged, "I don't know unless you were adept in your dimension too and you just chose to ignore it."

 

John nodded, "I guess that could be true. Magic wasn't a part of common everyday life there like it is here."

 

"So you and Bobby in your world were not lovers?"

 

John flinched. "We got damned close a time or two and I pushed him away. He always kept coming back until the very end. It took a hell of a lot for me to alienate him, but I did. I thought it was for the best but now. I think the reason why I love you so much is because I was in love with him too. Sometimes the parallels between this world and that one almost make me crazy."

 

Bobby sighed letting his eyes close. With a tight grin he moved to John's side taking the younger man in his arms. John's breath huffed out of his chest and he chuckled when Bobby rubbed his bearded chin over the soft skin just beneath John's ear. "It ain't what either of us asked for, John."

 

John heard an acknowledgment of who he was in that one simple word, then nodded as Bobby went on.

 

"But it's what we got. I still love you, not him… you. I want you to understand that. I'll do whatever I have to do to make this right for you."

 

"Haven't you been doing that for the last thirty-four years? I don't think he would have made it if it hadn't been for you."

 

"It was no trouble for me. He was my whole world and for better or worse you are now. You be who you are John; don't feel like you have to live up to him because I love you, John. I'll always love you."

 

 

They spent ten hours on the road the Impala following Bobby's truck. It was close to one in the morning when Bobby finally pulled over in the parking lot of a Motel Six. They were used to better but it was the only thing they could find close to the freeway.

 

The boys waited outside as Bobby went in to rent the rooms. Two rooms side by side with a connecting door. John suspected it had been that way for the whole time that Bobby and the boys hunted together. He sat in the truck all but nodding off. The sound of gravel crunching beside the door brought him fully awake and John smiled at Sam when the younger man patted his arm.

 

"Are you okay, Uncle John?" Sam asked with a smile. John nodded grateful for the younger man's concern but angry and depressed that he felt that this John had a much better relationship with this young man than he had ever had with his own son before. He couldn't change that but here he could do everything he could be a guiding force in this Sam's life, be someone for this young man that he had never been for Sam in his own world.

 

John nodded, "Yeah you look tired are you feeling okay?"

 

"You're just as bad as Mom," Sam said rolling his eyes, but he looked pleased and it made John feel good that he could do that for this boy.

 

"Don't let your brother talk you into sneaking out for a drink or some other diversion."

 

"John," Sam hissed blushing furiously. They smiled at each other then Sam shrugged. "I won't and, for the record, just because you and Bobby would make the Olympic team if sex was a sport it doesn't mean we're all that lucky."

 

John felt his cheeks go warm and Sam's face was crimson, John winched. "That's not nice young man."

 

Bobby slapped the younger man on the shoulder and Sam grinned, "John's right that ain't nice boy…true, but not nice all the same."

 

Casting a sideways glance at Sam's older brother Bobby winked, "Besides I think Dean gave up his amateur standing a long damn time ago."

 

Sam doubled over with laughter and slid back from the truck following the older men over to the parking spaces without even getting back into the car with his older brother.

They dragged their belongings out of the car and Bobby handed out the room keys. John unlocked the door and walked wearily into the room.

 

The bed looked so inviting that he bypassed the chair and flopped down on the firm surface of the mattress unlacing his hiking boots and toeing them off. He shimmied out of his jeans and dropped onto the bed with a sigh. Bobby was standing on the sidewalk outside their room still talking in low tones to the boys, when John struggled to his feet stripped to his undershirt and boxers. He was tugging the comforter off the bed when the older man closed the door.

 

"Caleb called Dean's cell when the boys were driving over. They have some research done for us on the best locations to find the water witch. I told him we'd be in Green Bay tomorrow. He was a little concerned about you coming along."

 

"Why?"

 

Bobby flushed. "You know Caleb; he's always been a little stand offish about "wives" coming along. He's the same about Ellen Harvelle."

 

John made a tsking sound then frowned, "Well, since I'm not a wife…that bastard. Just wait until we get there and this "wife" kicks his ass."

 

"Now John, go easy on folks for a while. If you come on too strong now its gonna cause all kinds of trouble. Just take it slow."

 

Bobby smiled patting John on the thigh. "I'm going to take a shower. Why don't you go on to bed, baby."

 

 

The sheets were cool and crisp beneath his back and the blankets a warm comforting weight on his tired body but John couldn't go to sleep. In a way he was glad that he had told Bobby the truth, and it seemed to be working out okay. But John had long been paranoid and with good cause. Every time he thought that things were going good something shot it all to hell.

 

There was a bumping against the wall from the other room, the one that Sam and Dean occupied and John snickered. Sounded like the boys were acting up again. It was too late for that kind of nonsense.  There was another more pronounced thud against the wall and the sound of giggling from beyond the dividing wall and John sighed.

 

Throwing off the blankets John walked to the front door of the room, and then he paused. He didn't want to put on his jeans and shirt and go outside. Another thump vibrated the walls. John stalked to the connecting door and started to knock, but the door was opened, unlocked from the boys' side.

 

Pushing the door inward John stepped into the room. Suddenly he came to an abrupt halt as the sight before him finally sank in. The boys were tangled together on the bed farthest from the door with the blankets strewn over the floor. The entwined forms were sweat stained glimmering softly in the moonlit room. With a gasp John stumbled back eyes going wide.

 

Suddenly rage course through his body. With a half-strangled shout he stalked into the room hauling Dean off his younger brother. Eyes black John slapped the younger man across the face sending him sprawling across the foot of the bed. Sam uttered an abbreviated shout then flailed around grasping the sheets and pulling them up to cover his body.

 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" John all but screamed. Suddenly there was a flurry of movement behind him and Bobby's big hands caught him around the waist tugging the younger man away from the bed.

 

Dean scrambled to the head of the bed then sat, back propped against the headboard, beside his brother. Sam coughed looking guiltily at the older men. Bobby vainly tried dragging John away from the bed, but John shoved his hands against the other man's chest pushing him back.

 

"Do you know what they were doing?"

 

Bobby raised a hand catching John's chin in his palm, "John you just calm down."

 

"No, if you had seen…" John stuttered to a halt then turned to Dean. "He's your younger brother for God's sake. How could you do that…it was your job to protect and care for him."

 

Dean frowned, "This is none of your business, John."

 

"None of my business…I'm your…."

 

Suddenly Bobby grabbed John jerking him around, "John you just stop. Jim and Mary raised these boys and I've known them all their lives. You've known them all their lives their good boys"

 

John jerked his arm away, taking an unsteady step backwards, "They're my…Bobby. I'm their…."

 

"You're their friend John just like before. Their friend, okay. This doesn't change anything. Why don't you just go back in the room baby?"

 

John whirled on the older man, "You knew about this didn't you? You knew and you didn't tell me. How could you Bobby? How could you do this especially now."

 

"Go in the room John and close the door. I'll be over in a minute. Do what I tell you."

 

Shocked John staggered back. He cast a wounded glare at the two young men on the bed. But what Bobby said was true. These weren't his sons. The resemblance was remarkable and it had been almost easy for John to pretend but these were not the boys he'd left behind. And whatever hurt he felt was totally misplaced in this place and time. He was a friend, Uncle John, at best, and he prayed that Jim and Mary never found out about this. His hands shaking John pulled the connecting door closed behind him and settled on the bed.

 

He could hear the harsh sounds of talking from the other room, raised voices of the boys and the deeper more strident tones of the older man. Bobby was angry, John could hear that apparently this was something long discussed and much debated. John just wondered how long it had been going on and when Bobby had first found out about it.

 

Finally the door connecting the two rooms swung open and Bobby appeared in the doorway. John cast a hard look at him and the older man flushed, embarrassed. He walked uncertainly across the room settling on the foot of the bed looking at the other man.

 

"Why didn't you tell me?"  John said darkly. Then he gasped as if he had forgotten something. "Did I know?"

 

"No, we didn't tell you. You reacted pretty much like I expected you too." John nodded understanding Bobby to mean that he reacted pretty much like his John would have. "I just found out about it myself not too long ago."

 

"Do you know when it started? God, were they both legal at least? Or has Dean been molesting his younger brother all their lives?"

 

"John, it’s not like that. Sam started it when his girlfriend was killed by a demon. Hunting's a hard business and hunters take comfort where they find it."

 

"Have you every found "comfort" anywhere but with me?"

 

"Of course not."

 

Bobby rose coming to sit beside John and placing a hand on his thigh. John shuddered and the older man sighed. "John please, you've got to be careful. You can't go off like that and say something that folks might not understand."

 

"They're so like my boys Bobby, the same looks, and the same personality. How can I not think of them that way? God, I wonder if this was going on with my sons back there."

 

"John, don't do this to yourself. I won't come to no good."

 

"I've got to know, Bobby. I've got to see my boys again. I don't know how but I've got to find a way or I'll go crazy."

 

Bobby caught John by the shoulders pulling him close. "Okay, I know some people. I'll find you that way, whatever I have to do."

Bobby stared at John, his face stricken. He had never considered that John, this man in front of him, might not want to stay in the place he had so rudely found himself. That he might be lost enough that death would seem a relief. But now looking at the man he loved he could see the despair on his face, feel the anger and grief pouring off him. Taking John by the hand the older man sighed, as much as it would hurt to lose John, he had to let go.

 

“I can do that for you John. I know a girl, a witch and she can open a portal between dimensions. The boys and I have to take care of this water spirit, but her house is on the way and we can stop there. I’ll give her a call.”

 

The house that they pulled up on front of was anything but impressive. It was more of a cottage than actual house but it was surrounded by a wide expanse of green lawn and neatly kept flower beds.

 

John slid out of the truck. Now that they were here he was hesitant. He had been brought here to keep Bobby from doing something foolish, and John had tried to go along. He had tried to fit into this strange new world that was so different from his own, but he was failing badly. Every day John felt like he was drowning, slipping further and further away from who he was into oblivion. He was fighting just to keep his head above water and he was tired. If he could just see his own boys once more, see that the demon hadn’t gone back on his deal when John was brought here maybe he go on, for Bobby’s sake he was willing to try because try as he might John couldn’t fight the fact that he loved Bobby any more.

 

He stood behind Bobby and the boys staring at the wooden doors of the cottage as if they were the gates of hell itself. Who knew that they weren’t maybe this was all some elaborate trick of the demon; make John believe that he had been given a reprieve only to find himself walking into the execution room at the lat minute. The door opened.

 

The girl standing in the door was nondescript, plain and small. Her slender body swathed in a heavy denim skirt and multi-colored silk blouse. Her features were regular nothing odd and yet she missed the mark as far as beauty went. But her smile lit up the place. It transcended the here and now became something other, and John found himself falling into her eyes.

 

“Bobby how are you?” she asked stepping aside, and John could feel the pull of magic as they walked through the door. They followed her inside.

 

Once they were seated in the small living room Bobby and John on the sofa the boys on the floor the girl nodded.

 

“Jessie, I know you’ve opened a portal between dimensions before.”

 

She frowned, “Bobby what you want me to do is really dangerous. I can open a portal but I can’t control the flow of what happens inside it or on the other side. If I do this, if John goes into the portal and to the other dimension he might not be able to get back. You told me that his body is dead on the other side, and John’s spirit here is departed. Once the spirit of this man is gone from this body it will die.”

 

Bobby groaned, “How soon?”

 

Jessie shrugged, “He can be out of the body for no more than ten minutes before brain damage sets in. If he comes back in less than that it will be like he was resuscitated in the hospital, but if he lingers. Well, the more time he is out of the body the more damage it will sustain.”

 

John nodded, “I don’t need to be out long. I just need to see what happened to my sons in the other dimension. I’ll come back here quick.”

 

Turning to the older man Jessie placed a hand on hi shoulder, “John it’s not that simple. Once you cross over you have to find your way back. A disembodied soul is always called back to the creator. You’ll see the light and you can choose to go into it be rejoined with the Beginning. So if you do want to come back here you have to focus on the light that I provide as a guide.”

 

“Okay,” John said. Jessie looked at Bobby.

 

“Do you want to discuss this?”

 

“I do want a few minutes alone with John. Where are we going to do the ritual?”

 

“In the bedroom.”

 

Jessie led them back to as small room in the back of the house. The bed was simply dressed with a hand-made patchwork quilt that Bobby was sure consisted of items that were important to the young woman. A focal point in her existence.

 

Motioning John to the bed she pulled a large candle out of a drawer and lit it. With a tiny smile Jessie motioned to the candle.

 

“There are a few things that I need to tell you, John. Don’t fight the flow of energy to the other dimension once you get into the portal. You’ll be swept forward just relax and go with it. You’ll appear on the other side as a disembodied spirit, you’ll be visible to others there, and you might even be able to draw enough energy to be relatively solid but you won’t be able to speak. When you are close to using all your time two lights will appear, the first one softer, smaller and yellow. If you choose that one you’ll come back here. John, look at this. See it. This is your light; the way home. If you follow it you will come back here without fail. If you see a brighter white light and you go into it your body here will die. You have nowhere else to go, there and back here or onwards.”

 

Turning to Bobby she nodded, “I’ll be right outside. Take your time.”

 

She didn’t add that it might be the last time that he spoke to John but Bobby could feel it lying heavy on his heart. With a tight grin he took John’s hand and kissed it. John lay on the bed staring up at Bobby’s face. The older man was sitting stiffly beside him propped against the headboard. John knew that he was doing was dangerous. There was a chance that once John was back in his original dimension he might not be able to find the path back. From the look on Bobby’s face John had began to believe that the older man thought John might not want to come back. And John was guiltily aware of the fact that he had thought about giving this all up, not coming back just surrendering to the demon in the end. And then Bobby took his hand again, smiling so gently at him. And John knew that he would be seeing his boys for the last time, no matter what happened.

 

“John, you know I love you, and not just the John that used to be. I love you as much as I ever loved him. There are so many things about you that are alike, and so many ways that you’re different. But in any case I love you. But if you can’t be here any more. If being in this place is hurting you then you can let go. Go on to the light. I won’t force you to come back here. You gave me more time than I was supposed to have. And don’t worry I won’t make any deals to bring him, or you, back.”

 

John nodded, reaching up he brushed the tears off the older man’s cheeks.

 

“I’m ready now.”

 

Jessie was moving around the room getting everything in order for the ritual. Both men watched the girl move with the skill and determination of a much older woman. He glanced back at John taking a deep breath.

 

The light of the candle flickered, glinting softly then elongating stretching out before him like a highway. John stood up taking a tentative step toward the soft warm glow. He hesitated briefly looking back for the bed, for Bobby but the room was gone and John was alone on a dark road.

 

Suddenly the road became a corridor, dark dank and foul smelling. John tried to pause tried to step back but his feet carried him forward into the dim light. He could hear sounds behind the walls, the scurrying of small feet and as much as John wanted to believe that there were rats in the walls he knew they were not. His head ached and his eyes burned. It seemed warm in the darkness, far too warm. The air grew still around him, filled only with his echoing footsteps clocking on the hard floor.

 

John wasn’t sure how long he had been in the hallway. He had thought that time might not exist where he was, here in between, but he could feel the minutes slipping away, knew that his body was laying on the bed in that room, decay already setting in. When he got back, if he got back, would he come home to a desiccated corpse to Bobby’s mourning face?

 

Was there any point in going back, to live a lie…a life that was not his own. Bobby loved his John the soft, spoiled little brat that he catered too. Not the man John was, not the hunter, the man who fought and killed demons. The man who had mourned his own loss for twenty-three years, the man who had made his sons in his own image and then laid down his life for them. He had no reason to go back there to that place, except that he loved Bobby. Did he love Bobby? John sighed, did he love anyone?

 

Suddenly John flinched in pain, his chest contracted in agony and he leaned against the wall. The rough texture of the wall bent under his body, shifting minutely and John realized that the material was paper thin. He could break through it; see what was on the other side. Jessie had said that there was only one way there and back again, but he could step aside fall off the path and find his own way. Go to whatever was just beyond the walls.

 

Pressing his hands into the soft flexible material John leaned forward. He could just make out sounds on the other side, the walls writhed beneath his hands then suddenly a shape appeared in the walls, hands reaching out to him, trying to grasp his wrists. John started.

Cringing he pulled away, dropping his hands to his side and looked down the corridor again. He began walking.

 

From somewhere up ahead John could just make out the faint glimmer of light, a flicker in the darkness. He sped up and at the end of the corridor he could see a square shape, an opening…a doorway.

 

As the doorway swung open John could see the darker black shapes of grave markers against the dim twilight of the night sky. As he stepped out of the door he paused looking up at the stars shining brightly. There was a commotion to his right and he turned.

 

Suddenly his heart skipped a beat as he saw Dean standing in the middle of several ancient graves. Near the doorway he had just stepped out of were two figures one male and one female. It took him a few minutes to recognize Bobby—this Bobby and he felt the dull pain of unfulfilled love deep inside.

 

Bobby was staring at John mouth a gape. But his face was stoic unwilling or unable to forgive John for his abandonment. John found that he couldn’t blame the other man. Ellen Harvelle was standing behind Bobby pressed against his back, but John didn’t feel; any pressing urge to move her away. These people had their own lives here and now and he was no longer a part of it.

 

A harsh sound from the middle of the cemetery drew Johns’ attention and he jerked forward the demon was standing on the grass holding the Colt on Dean. John felt his blood run cold, with a grimace he ran forward reaching out.

 

Whatever he had been expecting his hands passing through the demons body wasn’t it. Then John realized that he might be strong enough to draw his spiritual energy into a solid form he was no where strong enough to become solid. But he felt a tug beneath his hands and realized the demon was essential as non-corporeal as a ghost. That the body he inhabited was not his own.

 

The demon must have sensed John’s intentions as well because he jerked away from Dean turning slightly as John tugged at him. He threw John off and he fell away from the demon’s body into the dew covered grass. Shaking his head John stood.

 

Making a final lunge John reached out letting his hands pass through the body the demon possessed and grasping the incorporeal form inside. The gun flew out of the demon’s hand as he struggled with the spirit trying to dislodge him from his home. John jerked back arms wrapped around the demon’s chest and they both stumbled away.

 

When both figure rose up out of the grass John staggered a few steps away from the demon and they both turned. The black oily cloud that was the demon’s true form slipped over the grass and into the body lying still on the ground. He rose turning to John with a smirk.

 

Dean took one step forward them raised the Colt. Before the demon could move the young man fired the gun. The bullet sped straight and true hitting the demon’s body in the chest. With a gasp and an utterly shocked look on his face he staggered back body twitching as a red light consumed him from within. He crashed to the ground.

 

Staring at Dean, John took two hesitant steps forward. He wished that he could speak, wished that he could give his son the love and reassurance that he needed, but this was all he had this mute adoration. Casting a quick glance at Sammy John offered his youngest child the warm loving smile he hadn’t been able to give in life. He tried to convey the love he felt silently. Somewhere deep inside John felt that Sam understood and his son smiled at him tears welling in his eyes.

 

Stepping back away from Dean John sighed, it wasn’t enough but he had seen what he needed to see. His sons were alive, if not well, and together. Still holding each other up, still fighting the good fight. He thought that Dean looked sorrowful, still grieving and John hoped that he wasn’t the cause of that, although he knew that he was, if only just a little. But Dean and Sammy were still alive and together and that had to be enough for him. He couldn’t change it now.

 

There was a nagging sensation at the back of John’s mind, a dull buzz and he realized that the portal was closing. He had to make a choice. There was a warm welcoming light glowing in the night sky. It was small but still it beckoned him closer, to warmth and love and peace.

 

As John looked up he could see the faint glimmer of candle light, and the outlines of a small cozy bedroom. He knew that somewhere in that other place he was laying on a bed, his body dying slowly. But the white light peaking over the horizon was calling him as well.

 

With a sigh John stepped back moving toward the warm glow. There was the familiar sensation of weightlessness as John was swept up into the soft light. With a gasp he threw himself headlong into the maelstrom.  The light enveloped him and swept him along.

With a long shuddering breath John opened his eyes.

 

The End


End file.
